Mike Staskowski is a leg man.

More specifically, he’s a hoof guy – a farrier. He travels around in a truck that has been mistaken for one of those “roach coaches,” the snack trucks you see at construction sites. He has everything on board that he needs to shoe horses – drill press, belt sander, portable forge, and rows and rows of horse shoes. It’s a thoroughly modern operation for a very old craft.

I saw Mike work on Will Orthwein’s polo ponies in Greenfield. I’ll go to a barn for just about any reason. I love the smell of it and the chance to get next to a horse.

I learned that farriers only stopped making their own horseshoes in the 1960s. Until then, each one was hand-crafted. The pre-fab shoes still require tweaking and sanding to fit.

It was interesting to me how little the trade has changed since blacksmiths pounded steel hundreds of years ago. The process is more efficient now, the materials more high-tech, but it’s still a guy in an apron with a hoof in his lap doing the work.

There is a lot to the job Mike does without thinking too much about it after 17 years of experience. I learned fitting horseshoes is not just about protecting a horse’s hooves, as I thought, but shoes properly fit give the horse a stable step and help bring it into alignment.

Mike is a friendly guy from West Charlton. He grew up training standardbreds and he’s solidly built. He wears a brace around one elbow to support tender ligaments and works in Carhartts or Wranglers and sneakers. Some guys wear steel-toed boots to guard against getting stepped on. “I just figured I was quicker on my feet,” Mike said.

Photo by Skip Dickstein. Look for my story in the print version of the Times Union later this week.